


Let the world turn without you tonight

by darkrosaleen



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, The Youngblood Chronicles (Music Video)
Genre: Hair Washing, M/M, Penance - Freeform, Post-Battle, curly hair, hair combing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 20:05:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11516472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkrosaleen/pseuds/darkrosaleen
Summary: They come home covered in literal and metaphorical filth. Patrick helps Joe get clean.





	Let the world turn without you tonight

After, they went back to Pete's. They spent a good five minutes just standing in the foyer, caked in gore. Patrick's left hand felt like it didn't belong on his body, like he shouldn't be able to feel through it. Which was ironic, since the hook had carried the phantom sensation of a hand.

"Dibs on first shower," Joe said. He seemed to have gotten the worst of the filth, having both more height and more hair for the gunk to stick to. Patrick had seen him in the van, scratching and picking at the dried stuff on his arms. 

"There's three bathrooms," Pete said. No one made a move toward any of them. Andy had blackish gunk stuck in his beard, and Pete had horrible-looking chunks on the front his shirt.

"I'll wait," Patrick said. He'd feel better when his friends were clean. His own body was the last thing on his mind.

Joe reached out and grabbed Patrick's wrist, pulling him towards the stairs. "Don't be an ass."

Pete's master bath was ridiculous, with a massive jet tub and black-tiled double shower. Patrick sat on the edge of the tub and watched the slow reveal of Joe's tattoos as he stripped, his eyes running over the familiar colors and patterns. 

"You coming in?" Joe said, reaching in to turn on the shower. He dropped his boxers, and Patrick hastily looked down at the floor. "Come on. It'll feel good."

Patrick's laugh sounded strangled. "I don't think I deserve to feel good right now."

The room was starting to warm up, filled with damp steam and the gentle hiss of the water. Joe laid a warm hand on Patrick's shoulder. "I forgive you," he said, and Patrick's vision suddenly blurred. "Not that you need forgiveness, because you weren't yourself. But you have it. Now get your disgusting ass in the shower and clean up."

It took some time for Patrick to strip out of his clothes, which were stuck to his skin with dried blood. By the time he stepped into the shower, Joe was already soaped up, his skin starting to look pink and clean. Patrick let his eyes fall, once, then blushed and turned on the other shower head.

Patrick moaned when the water hit him. The heat seeped through his skin and straight down to his tired bones. He took some shampoo from the bottle on the rack, something floral and sweet-smelling that Pete's girlfriend had left. 

Patrick's hair was a matted mess of dried blood, and he teased at the knots until his scalp ached, working shampoo into the tacky strands. Eventually he got it all out, and he couldn't stop running his fingers through his smooth, clean hair, feeling purified.

Joe groaned. "This is not going to be fun." He was feeling out his own wet hair, wincing as he assessed the damage. "Good thing we ended up at Pete's place, huh?"

Patrick felt a stab of guilt. It was going to take Joe forever to wash all the crud out of his hair, way longer than it had taken Patrick.

"Let me," Patrick said. Joe looked over in confusion, and Patrick's face went red. "I can do it. If you want." It was important, somehow, that he fix this one small thing for Joe. 

"You want to wash my hair." Joe was giving him a bemused look, and Patrick fought the urge to retract the offer, play it off as a dumb joke. "Do you know how?"

Patrick shrugged. He'd shared enough bathrooms with Joe and Pete that he'd picked up a couple things. "You can show me how. I just—" He paused, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. "Let me do something nice for you. Please."

Joe's expression softened. "We'll be more comfortable in the tub. You rinse off, I'll go run the water."

He shut his showerhead off and grabbed a few bottles from the shower caddy. Patrick heard the bathtub turn on, then the sound of Joe rummaging around in Pete's cabinets. Patrick rubbed himself down with shower gel one last time, the cloying scent of cherry vanilla covering the imagined smell of blood and rot.

Patrick waited until he heard the water shut off to come out of the shower. Joe was already lounging in the tub, one colorful arm resting on the rim. Patrick quickly toweled off and pulled his boxers back on.

Joe sat forward so that Patrick could perch on the tub wall behind him and sink his feet into the hot water. There was a vast array of battered, half-empty bottles set out next to them, all advertising shea butter or coconut or exotic-sounding oils. Patrick didn't see any shampoo, and he checked all the bottles a second time before Joe coughed and tapped a bottle of conditioning cleanser. It had a fresh, herbal scent that smelled overwhelmingly like Pete.

"Use more than you think you need," Joe said, slipping down into the water to soak his hair. "Then use twice as much as that."

Patrick chuckled. He poured a huge dollop into his palm, then squirted out some extra. 

Joe sighed heavily when Patrick's fingers slid through his hair. It was soft in Patrick's hands, warm and slippery from the hot water and the conditioner. Patrick took his time gently working through it, letting himself enjoy the sensation between his fingers. 

"Bet you've wanted to do this for years," Joe said. Patrick's face went hot.

"Not because it's, like, dirty or anything." The gunk was coming out, and Patrick could see the shape of the curls starting to emerge. "Just thought it would feel nice."

Joe laughed. "That makes two of us." 

Patrick's stomach fluttered hopefully. "Glad I can make your dreams come true."

He rubbed his fingers against Joe's scalp, which made Joe groan and drop his head back against Patrick's leg. "You're good at this. If the music thing doesn't work out, you should go to beauty school."

Patrick gave another strangled laugh. "I think we can definitively say that the music thing did not work out."

Joe grabbed Patrick's calf. He didn't say anything, just swirled his thumb up and down Patrick's wet skin.

Patrick didn't want to bring the past few days crashing into this calm space, but it was eating away at his insides. "It was the worst moment of my life, hands down. Waking up and seeing—having to live with what I did to you." It was like the first time he'd seen a dead body all over again: the sudden, shocking knowledge that a person he loved could be snuffed out like a candle.

Joe's hand was steady on his leg. "Worse than Pete?"

There was a question there, but Patrick wasn't sure how to answer it. "I wasn’t awake for long after Pete." 

Joe didn't press further. Patrick resumed his scalp massage, and Joe sighed heavily and sank further into the water, knees poking up through the surface. "You should comb it now, while the conditioner's still in it."

Patrick picked up the wide-toothed comb and slowly ran it through Joe's hair. Joe inhaled sharply when it caught on a tangle, and Patrick rubbed his foot soothingly over Joe's thigh. He carefully worked through the knots, trying to pull as little as possible. 

"I wouldn't let just anybody do this, you know." Joe sounded relaxed, and it softened the anxiety in Patrick's stomach. "Anybody straight, at least."

Patrick smiled. "Good thing I'm not straight, then."

Joe laughed. He wrapped his fingers around Patrick's ankle, massaging the tendons there. "Yeah. Good thing."

Patrick leaned over to set the comb with the other hair products, and Joe sank down into the water to rinse off, hair fanning around him like seaweed. It felt like seaweed too, silky in Patrick's fingers when he raked them through it. 

Joe sat up and stretched, water streaming down his back. Patrick fluffed Joe's hair with his fingers, watching the curls twist back together. 

"I always thought your hair was so cool." Patrick hooked one curl with his finger, running down the full length and watching it bounce back up again.

Joe reached over and pulled the tub drain. "I always wanted you to play with it, but I never knew how to ask."

Something fluttered in Patrick's chest. He rubbed Joe's back and shoulders, the skin warm and damp under his palms. "Let's dry off and head to bed. We'll figure it out in the morning." 

They wrapped themselves in Pete's plush robes and wandered into the master bedroom, where Pete and Andy were already curled up in bed. Pete gave them a bleary smile when they crawled under the covers.

"Your hair looks amazing," Pete whispered. "You've got to give me your guy's number."

"He's not taking clients," Joe said, pulling on Patrick's arm until he settled in as the big spoon. It left Patrick with a face full of hair, but given the circumstances, he couldn’t complain.

**Author's Note:**

> For the bingo square Penance or Reform, and/or Bath Time. Title from Jesus Christ Superstar, because Youngblood clearly needs more biblical imagery.


End file.
